She never saw it coming. Officer Lena Cruz, twenty-eight, fit and sharp in her tight blue uniform, was checking a dark warehouse on the edge of the city when the two men hit her from behind. One clamped a hand over her mouth, the other yanked her gun away and shoved her hard against a stack of crates.
"Shut the fuck up, cop," the bigger one growled, his breath hot on her neck. They ripped her shirt open, buttons popping, and her tits spilled out, nipples already stiff from the cold air and adrenaline. Lena kicked and twisted, but they were stronger. One pinned her wrists above her head while the other yanked her pants down to her knees, exposing her shaved pussy.
"Fucking tight little cop cunt," the second man laughed, shoving two thick fingers straight into her. She was dry at first, but he worked them rough and fast, curling them until her walls started to slick up against her will. Lena bit back a moan, refusing to give them the sound, but her hips jerked anyway when his thumb mashed her clit.
They bent her over the crates. The first man dropped his pants and slammed his cock into her from behind in one brutal thrust. He was thick, stretching her open, and he fucked her like he owned her, hips slapping loud against her ass. Every stroke forced a grunt out of her. The second man circled around, grabbed her hair, and shoved his dick down her throat. She gagged, spit running down her chin, but he held her head and pumped anyway.
"Look at that pretty cop mouth taking it," he snarled, thrusting deeper until her nose pressed into his pubes. The man behind her reached around and pinched her clit hard while he pounded her, forcing her to come in a sudden, shameful rush. Her pussy clenched around his cock, milking him as she shook.
They switched. The second man took her pussy while the first one made her suck her own juices off his shaft. They used her hard, switching holes, calling her a dirty badge whore, a uniform slut who needed real dick. Lena's legs trembled. Her uniform hung in shreds around her. Sweat and spit and her own wetness coated her thighs.
When they finally finished, they painted her face and tits with thick ropes of cum, then left her there, panting and dripping. Lena stayed bent over the crates for a long minute, cum sliding down her skin, pussy still pulsing from the rough use. She pulled her torn clothes together, found her radio, and called it in as a "scuffle." But deep down she already knew she'd be back on that same patrol route tomorrow night, half hoping they were waiting.
